


xv. into the unknown

by tempestaurora



Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [15]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Actually The Whole Thing Is Pretty Not Whumpy, And Happy Middle, Apocalypse, Gen, Happy Ending, Teen for language, Time Travel, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27026113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: Five is eighteen when he figures out how to jump back in time and return to the family he lost.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930186
Comments: 44
Kudos: 353





	xv. into the unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Science Gone Wrong
> 
> the "science gone wrong" is that first time travel jump and everything else is just a happy reunion

Five kept a journal in the margins of Vanya’s book:

_Day 24: found this book in the remains of the old library at home. My family grew up without me._

_Day 41: found a stash of beans_

_Day 100: I am the last person alive on this whole fucking planet. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I am going to die in the apocalypse and no one will ever know_

_Day 101: Finally! I’m not alone. Today, I was taking another search through the department store on West+1. Met Delores._

He kept the book close to him at all times, read the words his sister wrote a thousand times over, until every inch of the book was burned into his retinas. He learnt it all; how she left the light on for him every night in case he came home; how Ben died at sixteen, prompting half the team to quit and leave the Academy; how Vanya spiralled into isolation as her siblings grew older and angrier and tore themselves apart.

He thought if he could get back, maybe he could stop that from happening.

If they were all together, perhaps they could stop the apocalypse before it even started.

_Day 1651: visited their graves for the last time. I’m going home. I’m **going** home. Nothing in this whole fucking universe could stop me._

*

Five landed in the sidewalk outside the mansion; the blue portal vanishing behind him. For a moment, he breathed in the clean air; pressed his cheek against the ground that was no longer rubble; dug his fingers into the pavement. Then he climbed to his feet and looked up at his home— _home._ Still standing, tall and opulent, in the middle of Manhattan.

He span carefully, the roads empty in the downpour. It looked maybe mid-afternoon, though the sun was barely visible behind the grey clouds. Down the street, traffic passed, and people chatted in doorways, blissfully unaware of his return.

“I’m back,” Five breathed. “I’m _back._ ”

He curled his fingers around the wrought iron gate and pushed it open, stepped up to the door and tried the handle. _Locked._ Five was tired from the time travel, but he thought he could give it another go. He landed on the other side, in the empty, dark foyer and sighed heavily.

He dripped onto the floor as he shucked off his backpack and googles, sliding his arms out of his jacket and dumping it all on the floor.

“Hello?” he called out. Maybe they were on a mission or in the other wing of the house; it was all so quiet. If he’d gotten his calculations right, he shouldn’t be more than a week out from the day he left. Though he was eighteen to his siblings’ hopeful thirteen, he would be back with them, and things could go back to normal—or, at least, the normal that they needed to avoid the apocalypse and save all of their lives.

He couldn’t hear anyone, so he stepped further into the house, tracking wet footprints as he went. Five followed the hall around to the living room, the bar area, ducking his head into the dining room as he went. The whole place was deserted almost, except—there was a handbag sitting on the couch.

Five lifted it gently. Sometimes the Umbrella Academy would have visitors; lawyers, politicians, friends of their father’s. He replaced it on the cushions and looked around for more signs of life – there were a few glasses on the coffee table, amber liquid still inside.

_Alright,_ he decided. Maybe a year or two out. Vanya’s book said that Klaus and Diego started raiding the bar at around sixteen, but Five couldn’t imagine them being so careless and leaving out the evidence. Dad would certainly never leave a drink out like that.

He turned in a slow circle – the camera in the top corner of the room was still there; was he watching? Was Pogo?

“Pogo?” he called, just in case. Then: “Mom? Are you here?”

Still, no one answered, so Five carried on through the house, checking the kitchen and listening carefully for life. At the breakfast table were cups of cold coffee.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Five asked with a sigh. He’d imagined his homecoming a thousand times and none of them had involved searching for them. They’d always just _been there_ in his dreams. Perhaps he’d arrive at night time as Vanya left out his marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich and be pulled into a tearful hug. Or maybe he’d walk in just as they’re all filing down the stairs.

Not once had the house been empty like this.

Then it wasn’t so empty anymore. There was the distant sound of conversation, like an argument, and Five raced to find it, sweeping through the downstairs level again until he saw a faint light coming from the courtyard. As he ran towards it, he jerked to a stop by the window and stared:

In the downpour outside stood a group of people, all tall and grown up. They were first recognisable in a vague way, and then starkly so; he’d seen these faces on the corpses of his siblings in the apocalypse. He was late, too late. But they were here and alive and he still had time.

Five barged out the door, into the rain.

They turned to look at him, so fucking _alive._

Luther was taller and bigger, and Allison’s hair was dyed a golden blonde, and Klaus was bundled up in a fancy coat, smoking in the rain. There was Diego without an umbrella, and Mom with one, and Pogo staring with wide eyes, and—

_Vanya, Vanya, Vanya._ She looked exactly like the photo on the book.

Five hadn’t cried in about one-thousand-six-hundred-and-forty days, but he might do now.

He said, “Hi, guys,” his voice weaker than he expected. They stared, open-mouthed. “I’m back.”

The rain poured down. In Luther’s hand was a vase; a pile of dirt by his feet. He dropped the vase and it shattered on the ground.

“Five,” Diego said.

“Five?” Allison asked.

“ _Five,_ ” Vanya gasped, and she barrelled into him, pulling him tight into a hug he returned fast. He hadn’t hugged someone in almost five years. He hadn’t realised how much he missed it; the warmth of another person, the way they could keep him upright as his legs threatened to simply fall out from beneath him.

It was Diego who appeared next, stealing him from Vanya the moment she pulled back to get a look at him. Diego was taller than Five, now, with scars running across his cheekbones and knives holstered all over him. The handles jabbed into Five’s ribs but he didn’t care. Diego was _alive._ Five buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, before they all piled on.

Klaus with messy hair and eye liner, smelling of smoke, and Allison with her fancy coat and heels and kiss pressed into his temple, and Luther with his barrel chest and over-sized arms squeezing the life out of him. He’d missed it all. It ached how badly he’d missed it.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Allison said, when the five had all had their go. It was like they were still reaching for him, though, and he felt the same. Diego kept his hand on Five’s shoulder and Allison grabbed one of his hands and Five just wanted to pull them all in again. The rain flattened his unruly hair against his forehead and Five sniffed, using his free hand to swipe it away. “Where the hell have you been?”

“And why do you still look like a fetus?” Klaus asked.

Five couldn’t help but laugh, though it was choked and watery. “The future,” he said, looking at them in turn. “I went to the future.”

“You _time travelled?_ ” Vanya asked.

“Weren’t you supposed to _not_ do that?” Diego added.

“Yeah,” Five said with a nod. “I fucked up, but—but I’m back now. For good. And I’m—” he sniffed, running the back of his hand under his nose. God, he was going to _cry._ More than he already was. Five was ready to just sob his fucking heart out. He’d turned eighteen some time ago and yet he’d been an adult since his was thirteen; he was ready to just shrink back and be a kid again. He was ready to have no worries, despite the apocalypse looming. “I’m so sorry I left, I won’t—I won’t do it again.”

“Five,” Allison said, smiling and crying and sighing. They’d all abandoned their umbrellas and looked soaked through already. Allison tugged him back into a sopping wet hug. “What matters is that you came back.”

“How about we all go inside, get out of the rain?” Mom suggested, still standing beneath her black umbrella. “I’ll bake you all up some cookies—oh, Five, dear, it’s good to see you again.” She pressed her palm against his cheek, smiling that familiar, motherly smile, and continued into the house. Five watched her go.

“Mom’s right,” Luther said. “We’ll get you a towel—”

“And a fresh change of clothes,” Allison added, glancing over his apocalypse ensemble that he’d been wearing for a few months now.

“Oh, and some hot chocolate,” Klaus said. “And maybe get _me_ some hot chocolate. Do you still like putting M&Ms in your hot chocolate? Oh, don’t answer, I’m gonna do it anyway—makes it taste _dire_ in my opinion, but you always liked it.” The three started into the house, Diego following with a smile and a nod of his head towards the door.

Pogo followed past them, stopping to warmly say, “It’s good to have you back, Master Five.”

Then Five looked at Vanya, drenched and still staring at him like he was some kinda miracle – and maybe he was, maybe _this_ was.

“I knew you’d come back,” she told him. “I knew you wouldn’t leave us for good.”

Five smiled. He knew that too; he’d read all about it. Five swung an arm around his sister’s shoulders and led her towards the door. “I’d never leave you guys for good,” he agreed.

*

By the time he made it to the kitchen, Luther had piled up the towels and Allison was bickering with Klaus as he made them hot chocolates. Five raised his eyebrows at the scene.

“The only clothes in the house are either Ben’s or Klaus’,” Allison told him when she spotted him leading Vanya in. “Klaus wants you to wear _his_ clothes—”

“I have a skirt that would look _great_ on you—”

“But I’m gonna go find Ben’s—”

“He dressed like a 2002 emo,” Klaus informed her, “I don’t know if Five could pull off that look.”

A few minutes later, he’d dried himself off and changed into Ben’s clothes. Five was unreasonably skinny due to the lack of food he’d had for the past few years, and what was most likely a stunted growth, so Ben’s t-shirt for a band he didn’t recognise hung off him loosely, and Five had to jab an extra hole in the belt to keep the jeans up.

He walked into the kitchen in bare feet after that, stopping by the door to take in the scene of his siblings all bustling around the table, passing out hot chocolate and watching Mom as Diego took a knife from her and handed her a wooden spoon.

“Five,” Luther said suddenly.

They all looked over and he started into the room, taking the spare seat in the middle of the table and pulling his feet up onto the chair, his toes curling over the edge of the seat. Five craned his neck around then to watch Mom, whom Diego was eyeing like a hawk as he took a seat opposite Five.

“She alright?” he asked quietly.

“Her programming’s getting old,” Diego replied just as soft. “She’s getting a bit confused.”

“Why doesn’t Dad just tune her up?” Five asked. He took a sip of his hot chocolate; the cream and marshmallows were already melting, and he fished an M&M out before it could vanish into the drink.

“Well,” Allison said slowly, after a beat. “Dad’s not… _here_ anymore.”

Five looked up. They were all watching him. “Like, he’s moved out? Or—” Five stopped.

“He’s dead,” Diego said.

Five paused to check their faces, make sure it wasn’t a joke. He hadn’t found his father’s body in the apocalypse – but he’d assumed that if any bastard would have a bunker to ride it out and survive the whole goddamn thing, it would’ve been Dad. “When?” he asked.

“Three days ago,” Luther answered.

Five thought about that vase in Luther’s hands in the courtyard, the dirt at his feet. “Pretty quick turnaround for cremation,” he said, instead of what he was thinking: _holy shit._

He took a long sip of his drink, then carefully placed it on the table. “Probably pretty important I ask this then: what’s the date today?”

“Uh, Tuesday? Maybe?” Klaus replied.

“March 24th, 2019,” Vanya said.

Five clenched his jaw. He fucked up. _He fucked up._ He gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white and drew in a sharp breath. He had a _week_ to stop the apocalypse. He was supposed to have _seventeen fucking years._ Turns out time travel was _not_ for him.

_God, shit, fuck,_ he thought as his siblings eyed him. His hopes had dwindled when he’d seen his siblings, but he’d hoped to have months, perhaps a few years – but _this?_ It had to be impossible. The only thing he had to go off was a goddamn _prosthetic eye_ he found in Luther’s dead hand back on that first day.

“Five?” Vanya asked quietly. She placed a cold hand over his tense one.

Five looked at her; his non-powered little sister. Or, _big_ sister now, as time travel would have it. They’d always been closest; Vanya and Five, who’d commandeered the library and had interests in the same languages, the same music. She had more time to learn Russian and German, so would teach it to him on their off hours, or late at night, hiding under her duvet with the torch light glowing over a foreign dictionary as they whispered and giggled in the darkness.

He said, “When I was thirteen, I travelled to just over a week from now.”

He said, “I couldn’t get back for five years – I couldn’t—couldn’t figure out the formula, how it would work.”

He said, “On April 1st, the world ends, and I was stuck in the apocalypse that whole time.”

The table was absolutely silent. Behind him, Mom pottered about as if nothing happened at all.

“The world _ends_ ,” Luther clarified.

“Yeah.”

“On _April Fools Day,_ ” Klaus added.

“Also yeah.” Five shook his head, looking across them all. “When I jumped back, I was supposed to return to when I left, but I messed it up again. We’ve got a week to stop the apocalypse—”

“Do you know what causes it?” Diego asked.

“No,” Five replied. “But I think it has something to do with—” He patted down his pockets. He’d changed clothes – the eye was still in his jacket which he’d dumped on the floor. Five peered out the door, spotting Pogo with his things. “Pogo! My stuff—”

“I was going to take it to your room,” Pogo replied.

“No, I need it.” He reached out for them, and Pogo meandered into the room, his pace much slower than Five remembered. Five took the backpack first, cradling it between his knees and chest, and dumped the jacket on the table, so he could root through the pockets. He produced the eye and placed it on the table.

“I think whoever causes the apocalypse owns that,” he said.

Diego held it to the light and nodded. “There’s a serial code,” he said. “We can go to the company and search it. That’s all you’ve got?”

“Not much left after the end of the world,” Five bit out, before opening up his backpack. He needed to check the book was still there, and when he found it at the top of the bag, felt himself relax.

“Okay,” Diego said, “so we get the band back together, save the world, be heroes for all time.” He shrugged like it was simple as the others rolled their eyes.

“I don’t know,” Allison replied. “If the world’s ending, I need to get back to Claire.”

“Your daughter,” Five said.

Allison looked surprised before nodding. “My daughter. She’s out in L.A. – I can’t let her die alone.”

“And, frankly,” Klaus added, “I’m not much of a _superhero._ And the last mission we all went on together was a raging clusterfuck.”

“When Ben died,” Five said. This time, they all stopped to look at him. “I’d love to say it was obvious, because he’s not here,” Five told them, “and I was really fucking hoping he would be, but—” he hesitated then pulled out his copy of _Extra-Ordinary_ by Vanya Hargreeves and placed it on the table.

Diego scoffed. “Of course a copy of that would survive the end of the world.”

“You _read_ that?” Vanya asked.

“I memorised it,” he replied. “It was my only—my only source of information about what happened since I left.” Five shook his head. “I thought that if I travelled back far enough, we could use the book to act as like a _How Not to Grow Up_ guide; keep everyone together. Keep everyone… Alive.” He sighed. “Didn’t work, though, obviously. But we _have_ to stop the apocalypse – I know it went bad last time, and I know this is probably the only time you’ve all been in a room _since_ Ben died, but—but I need your help. I can’t see you guys die again, and I _know_ that if we do this together, we can save the world.”

Vanya’s hand was still wrapped tight around his, and he looked at her, then all the others. According to the book, Luther had been the only one who stayed at the Academy, had been sent to the _moon_ , and Diego had been kicked from the police academy while Allison rose to stardom in Hollywood. Klaus had been barely detailed, little more than a homeless addict, while Vanya had joined an orchestra, third chair violin. Plus, Ben was dead. Ben was _dead._

He hadn’t gone back far enough to save him, either.

“Please,” he said, and his siblings sighed, almost in unison.

“Alright,” Luther said.

“I’m in,” Diego agreed.

Allison nodded and Klaus hummed at a high pitch until he got an elbow to the side and said, “ _Fine_.”

“Vanya?” Five asked.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to help—”

“You be here,” Five said, “for my inevitable meltdown.”

She quirked a smile and the six of them finished their hot chocolates, watching in silence as Mom placed an empty plate on the table with a flourish, having forgotten the cookies still baking in the oven.

“Thanks, Mom,” Diego said, and Five added her to the list of things they’d fix after stopping the world from ending. They made plans to go to the prosthetic company the next day, to start the hunt for the cause of the apocalypse and put a stop to them fast.

Allison filed out to phone her ex-husband, as Klaus finally decided to change out of his wet clothes. Luther collected the towels they’d used to dry off and Diego went to check on the cookies now Mom had believed them done.

Five looked over to Vanya, who hesitated before saying, “I’ve got to teach violin tomorrow.”

He sighed heavily, reaching his arm around her and resting his head on her shoulder. “ _Vanya,_ ” he whined. He couldn’t wait until the apocalypse was cancelled so he could be a kid again.

“It’s this guy’s first lesson – Harold someone-or-other.”

“Cancel it,” Five said. “The end of the world is _way_ more important than some dude learning _Hot Cross Buns_ on violin.”

“Actually, I was going to teach him _Frere Jacques_ ,” she corrected, but rolled her eyes and relented. “I’ll push the session back to next week. Are you hungry?”

“God, yes.”

“Do you want to wait for the cookies, or—”

“Is there a marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich on the table?”

Vanya grinned. “You haven’t grown out of those?”

“I’m _barely_ eighteen, V,” he said, sitting up, “and I’ve been craving a marshmallow-peanut-butter-sandwich for five years.” He was dead serious and Vanya rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Sure thing, then. Don’t go anywhere.”

Five smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And he meant that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, please leave a comment etc etc lets talk about my problem:
> 
> i haven't written tomorrow's fic yet. i don't know what to write for it abdsjdkljaldka i wrote so many in advance and i just,,,, haven't written this one yet. the theme is "the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" and the prompts are "forced to beg, hallucinations and shoot the hostage" and i just Do! Not! Know! what to write for it,, so if you have ANY ideas, any AUs that fit ANYWHERE in there, even on the barest of tangents (they can be whumpy or angsty or fluffy i do not care) PLEASE tell me bc i am STRUGGLING (if i write your fic i'll gift it to you etc etc pls help)


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